The Battle at the wall

As I turned to face the elder who dared question me, the tension in the throne room was palpable. My gaze swept over the circle of worried faces.

“Our men are out there, fighting for us,” I said, my voice like steel. “I will not stand here like a coward while they shed their blood. I am the Alpha King. I lead. That is my charge.”

No one dared speak as I stormed out of the room. The air outside was colder than it had been hours ago, but my blood burned hot.

I made my way to the armory, its heavy oak doors creaking as I pushed them open. The scent of polished steel and leather greeted me, a familiar smell that always stirred a sense of purpose in my chest. I paused for a moment, letting my eyes roam over the weapons and armor lining the walls.

This is it, I thought. Either I lead them to victory, or I die trying.

I reached for my armor, the silver-etched breastplate that bore the crest of the Silver Moon Kingdom. As I fastened the clasps, the weight of the metal pressed against me not just physically, but with the immense responsibility it symbolized.

With my sword at my side and a bow slung over my shoulder, I stepped out and made my way to the walls. The sound of distant drums and the low hum of the enemy forces filled the air as I climbed the stone steps leading to the battlements.

When I reached the top, I saw my men. They stood in tense groups, their faces pale and their eyes wide with fear. Some gripped their weapons so tightly that their knuckles turned white. Others glanced nervously at the horizon, where the enemy's banners waved like a sea of fire against the dusk sky.

I couldn’t let them fall apart. Not now.

I climbed higher, standing above them so my voice could carry.

“I know you’re scared,” I began, my tone firm but understanding. “I know you have families waiting for you at home. Wives. Children. Parents who pray for your safety. And I know the enemy out there seems unstoppable.”

A murmur rippled through the ranks. I let it settle before continuing.

“But hear me,” I said, my voice rising. “If we fail today, if we let them take our walls, everything we hold dear will be gone. Your wives will be stolen. Your children will be made slaves. Our lands will be burned, and our pride trampled.”

The murmurs stopped, replaced by a heavy silence.

“The only way out,” I shouted, “is through! We stand here together and defend what is ours! We fight not just for ourselves, but for those waiting behind these walls. For our homes. For our honor!”

A roar erupted from the soldiers. They slammed their shields together, and their spirits rekindled.

“Ready yourselves!” I commanded.

The werewolves among them straightened, their bodies tense as they prepared for the transformation. The human soldiers gripped their silver swords and shields tightly. The archers lined the battlements, their silver-tipped arrows glinting in the fading light.

I stepped to the edge of the wall and peered over. The enemy stood just beyond arrow range, their forces stretching endlessly. Their leader, a tall man with dark armor and a cruel grin, stepped forward.

“Surrender now!” he bellowed. His voice carried easily across the field. “Give us what we want, and we’ll leave enough of your kingdom standing for you to rebuild!”

My lips curled into a sneer. Without a word, I pulled an arrow from the quiver at my back, knocked it, and aimed straight for his heart. Using every ounce of my werewolf strength, I released.

The arrow flew true but narrowly missed as the enemy leader sidestepped, striking down one of his men instead. The smug grin vanished from his face, replaced by a snarl of rage.

“Charge!” he roared.

The enemy forces surged forward, a mass of fur, claws, and steel.

“Archers, ready!” I shouted.

The archers drew their bows, their arrows gleaming.

“Fire!”

A volley of arrows rained down, striking many of the enemy soldiers. Some fell, but most kept coming, their feral determination unyielding.

“They’re still coming!” one of the archers called out.

“Keep firing!” I ordered.

The archers lost another volley, and more enemies fell. But the gap between them and our walls grew smaller with each passing moment.

“They’re aiming for the gates!” Marcus yelled, pointing toward a group of enemies carrying a battering ram.

Others began scaling the walls, their claws digging into the stone.

“Prepare for battle!” I shouted, drawing my sword.

Chaos erupted as the enemy reached us. The werewolves among our ranks transformed, their snarls echoing as they leaped into the fray. The humans stood their ground, slashing and parrying with their silver blades.

I let the wolf take over, the transformation swift and seamless. My senses sharpened, and a primal strength coursed through me as I lunged into the fight. My claws tore through the enemy, their blood staining the stone beneath my feet.

The battle raged on, each moment more brutal than the last.

After what felt like hours, the enemy began to retreat. Cheers erupted from our side, but I didn’t join them. Something wasn’t right.

“They’re regrouping,” I muttered, shifting back to my human form.

Sure enough, the enemy forces reassembled just out of arrow range. But this time, they brought something with them, a massive machine resembling a catapult.

“What is that?” Marcus asked, his voice filled with dread.

The enemy loaded the machine with large barrels and fired. The barrels arced through the air, landing within our ranks. As they shattered, a pungent liquid spilled out, filling the air with a noxious scent.

Men began collapsing, their faces contorted in pain.

“Wolfsbane!” someone shouted.

Panic spread like wildfire as more barrels landed, the poisonous fumes taking down werewolves and humans alike.

“Fall back!” I ordered, trying to rally the remaining men.

Before we could regroup, the enemy charged again, their numbers seeming even larger than before.

This time, they were relentless, breaking through the gates and scaling the walls in a frenzied attack.

“Hold the line!” I shouted, my voice hoarse.

But deep down, I knew this wasn’t a battle we could win without help. Stella, hurry. We can’t hold much longer.